Plucked from Poverty
by StarPotterTwilightHunger
Summary: When death and disease and plagues ravage the population of District 12, Katniss must do the one thing she never thought she would do to save her family. Darius/Katniss pairing. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Meat for Kisses

**Chapter 1: Meat for Kisses**

The snow flurries swirl around me as I head up to the Hob. Underneath my coat, I wear the old blue dress from my mother's Merchant days.

Tonight is the annual New Year's Eve party in the Hob. We Seam folk gather to walk the clock strike midnight and ring in the New Year. It is one of the few moments of happiness we enjoy.

I have never been one for parties, but my mother encouraged me to go out. Well, ordered might be a better word. Even though I'm only sixteen, my mother is forcing me to find a husband and marry. At least who it is will be left to my choice. Arranged marriages are common in District 12. I doubt anyone would want to be a suitor to me, though.

Upon entering the Hob, I spy Gale over at Ripper's bar and take a seat beside him. After small talk and a round or two of shots, we are joined by a certain ginger-haired fellow.

"Hello, Katniss," he smiles a million-watt grin.

"Hello, Darius," I smile politely at the unusually friendly Peacekeeper.

Upon my salutation, Darius buys me an unsolicited drink and engages me in conversation. The young Peacekeeper is known to be something of a flirt in our town - a trait that resurfaces when he ponders, "Now what might be a fair trade for a free shot of whiskey?"

I shake my head with a smile. "I can't even imagine."

"How about a kiss?" He leans in close to me and grins. "Tis the season, after all; I bet there are still sprigs of mistletoe hanging about."

I let out a bark of laughter and playfully shove him away. "No, thanks."

"Why not? I tell you, Katniss, my kisses are the most sought-after in the District!"

This gets my attention and I smirk. "Oh yeah? With who?"

Darius points out women to me. "Why, the flower seller with the green muffler. Oh, and the milkman's wife! I have plenty of references in these parts."

Gale begins to hoot with laughter as he rises and pays for his drink. "Keep talking, Darius! You'll never get a peck outta her!" And he heads off to dance with Madge Undersee, the Mayor's daughter.


	2. Chapter 2: How About that Kiss?

**Chapter 2: How About That Kiss?**

If only I could go back to that time on News' Year Eve. Before the dark times. Before the hurricanes and earthquakes and plaguing diseases that have now ravaged all of Panem.

Even before the environmental disasters, the last of which gave rise to Panem in the first place about 75 years ago, District 12 was the least populated of all the districts. Only 8,000 souls. Now, there are only 50 people left in the entire District.

Not 5,000. Not 500. 50.

I could probably name all of them, if I concentrated hard enough. About half of the people left alive are Peacekeepers, and their decimated corp is stretched thin for security. Head Peacekeeper Thread, Vice Peacekeeper Cray, Darius, Purnia... Those are the only officials I know. The other half are ordinary citizens. Mayor Undersee, Mrs. Undersee, Madge Undersee... The Mellarks, a family of bakers who have lived by cooking their own food instead of buying the poisoned produce, where many suspect the plague to have come from. Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, Leven, Rye and Peeta. Peeta has a wife, though he is my age of 16, it was probably arranged; her name is Delly Cartwright. The Hawthornes: Hazelle, Gale, Rory, Vick, Posy. And Leevy, Gale's wife. My family: Mother, Primrose and me. Thom, the Miner Foreman. Greasy Sae and her granddaughter, Lorelai. Haymitch Abernathy, a drunk and our only living Victor of the Hunger Games. Ripper, the liquor maker. Rooba, the butcher. The Goat Man. Bristel, a single mother.

That's all I can think of right now. Maybe fifteen other people still clinging to life. District 12. Where you can starve to death in safety.

Fertility has all but halted for those young couples who have managed to stay married. My mother and Prim, the only doctors in the entire area, suspect the plague might have something to do with it. We have survived from boiling my kills in the woods and having plenty medicine at our disposal should one of us fall ill. Anyway, no new babies are being born, which has actually relaxed my family's duties, but leaves them with not much else to do.

Immigrants from other districts have been forbidden, due to the possibility of uprisings being encouraged by foreigners.

My family and I are some of the poorest in District 12, despite the Healing business of my mother. To improve our economic standing, Mother once floated to me that I should think about getting married - if not necessarily for love, than for advantage. No matter the reason, I have never had any interest in Toasting the bread with any man, and I definitely have never wanted children (even if that possibility is not open at the moment). Besides, at this point, there are not many men left alive today who are not tied down. I once thought about how it would not be so bad to be with Gale, my former hunting partner. And Peeta Mellark was always a kind man and a Merchant besides. Who could I marry? Who could Mother marry? She doesn't have appealing choices. And neither would I - there is hardly anyone left who is my, or even close to my, own age.

It is a bitterly cold evening, and Mother and Primrose are out on a call. I am bracing myself for there to be another death come morning. All at once, there is a knock at the door. I open it to find Darius. He is only 21, one of the youngest Peacekeepers we've ever had. Flaming red hair. Despite the drastic turn of events in our district, he still looks ruggedly handsome. He is on his nightly patrol, which includes the Seam, where I live. And also Victors' Village, just so he can check on Haymitch Abernathy.

"Good evening, Darius," I try to say with a smile. Normally, I would address a Peacekeeper more formally, but Darius has always been unusually friendly and informal for one.

He smiles. "Good evening, Katniss. Are your mother and Primrose around?"

"They're out to see a patient," I explain.

Darius logs this in a holopad. "I'll be sure to make an exception for them in my records regarding curfew."

I am already staring to take a chill just standing in the doorway, so I ask him, "Would you like to come in?"

"Much obliged, actually. I have something for you anyhow."

I blink, surprised, and allow him past the threshold. Darius now holds up a turkey, worth enough to feed four families. "I heard you say that you have been having trouble bringing in game lately. So I hunted this."

"You shot this?" I stare.

He nods bashfully.

I silently accept the gift. Even though I feel I can't. My family and I have hardly any money to spare. And if there is one thing I abide by, it's that all trades must be fair. If someone gives you something, you have to give something in return. And I don't just accept free handouts. But what could I give him?

My memory of New Year's Eve last year gives me an idea. "Remember that New Year's party?"

Darius nods.

I stare up at him. "How about that kiss you tried to pilfer off of me?"

Darius blinks, but before he can make up his mind, I make it up for him.

I launch myself forward and kiss him full on the mouth, pulling him down and closer, deeper. After a moment, I feel Darius's hands go about my waist as he kisses me back.

It was supposed to be just a chaste gesture, but something about the good way that Darius kisses me makes me deepen the kiss. I close my eyes. My hands begin to grope. I boldly find the growing bulge in his pants, and seize it through his uniform, stroking him furiously the way I heard other girls whispering about it in the Hob over stolen liquor.

Darius moans and thrusts his hips into mine. We soon tumble back onto the couch, furiously making out. Darius slips his tongue between my parted lips, and I do the same for him, moaning. "Hmmmmmm..."

Pushing him flat and straddling him so that the skirt from my blue dress rides up high on my thighs, I pull down Darius's pants and underwear, so that his manliness... stands at attention.

Taking a deep breath, and praying Mother and Primrose won't walk in at this moment, I lean forward and take Darius in my mouth. I curl my fist around the base of his shaft, and my lips leap forward to swallow as much of him as I can. I even loll out my tongue and swirl it around the base. My jaws quickly become sore, but I close my eyes tighter and resolutely continue my work.

Darius, meanwhile, has his hips bucking into my face. His hands weave into my brown hair, untangling the braid my mother always does so that the curls now tumble down my shoulders in waves.

"Katniss..." Darius moans. Then, he explodes inside of mouth. I greedily gulp down every last drop.

When I extract myself from him, my bare shade of lipstick ringing his shaft is the only signal that I have been with him. Darius shakily stands and redresses himself.

"Thank you," he croaks out.

I make no reply, except to merely say. "Thank you for the turkey." Now I have earned that gift and still accepted no handouts.

Darius leaves. Mother and Prim don't come back until hours later.


	3. Chapter 3: Marry the Man

**Chapter 3: Marry the Man**

One day, around lunchtime, a few weeks after my strange coupling with Darius, Mother comes in from the Hob bursting with news. She tells me and my stunned sister that Darius the Peacekeeper asked her for my - my! - hand in marriage.

I am stunned and wonder if my kissing him and then sucking him off made the young Peacekeeper fall in love with me or something. I am scared and unsure, which Mother notices.

"Katniss, he's a Peacekeeper! He's offering to _marry_ you!"

I look to Prim. Marrying Darius would give us advantage and favor amongst the few people in Twelve who are left. I could provide for my mother and sister better. We might even live somewhere that is not the Seam. Peacekeepers have a barracks, a compound, near the Justice Building where they board.

I have to do this. For the sake of my family. I nod shakily.

"Tell... tell him to come by tonight and we'll have a Toasting."

* * *

I don my mother's old wedding dress that night. Darius does not own a tuxedo, preferring instead to wear his Peacekeeper uniform and stop by during his routine patrol.

Darius and I Toast a piece of bread over the fire. Then, the red-headeded hunk takes my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine in a chaste and tender kiss. I close my eyes as I kiss him back.

I don't quite know if I can love my new husband yet, but maybe with time, we could make it work.


End file.
